


The Camera Doesn’t Lie (And Nor Do I)

by artistocrazy



Series: Aushun Week 2020 [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24740932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistocrazy/pseuds/artistocrazy
Summary: For Aushun Week 2020.Day 1: Historical.Setting: Vienna, Austria. June, 1892.This isn’t so much based on a historical event as it is just having these dorks do cute, couple-y things. I need some of that fluff once in a while!Erzsi wants to celebrate their silver anniversary by getting photographed and doesn’t fully understand Roderich’s reservations about it. Thus bickering and indecent flirting ensue on the way over (much to Roderich’s chagrin and secret delight).
Relationships: Austria/Hungary (Hetalia)
Series: Aushun Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790344
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	The Camera Doesn’t Lie (And Nor Do I)

_Vienna, Austria. 1892._

“Please, can’t we just pose for a painted portrait?” Roderich whined, seemingly being dragged down the street by his excitable wife, who still moved with haste even in her long, white skirts and parasol. He should have known even as dolled up as she were, it wouldn’t be enough to calm her down. Erzsébet’s eagerness was not easily deterred, especially in this instance. She’d become very animated about the idea of doing something commemorative for their silver anniversary, and there were more excuses to find a photographer than there weren’t.

“Standing still for hours versus fifteen minutes?” she chirped, turning back around to take both of his hands in hers in that adorable, encouraging way that teetered on pleading like the balance of her parasol. “Come on! You’re a pro at having your portrait done, and this is so much shorter. This is like a dream for you.”

“Yes, but photography is different,” the Austrian argued, struggling with his reservations as much as he struggled to possibly dim down that sweet, spirited charm of hers while they strolled on. “With painting an artist can take some liberties and have the world digest our flaws a little easier. Photographs are completely unflinching in their depiction. Your appearance is thrown out to a merciless world to devour like wolves.” 

Even when he looked so perplexed over something so small and failed to meet her gaze like that and wore that shy frown, Erzsébet couldn’t help but internally swoon for the man. He was like poetry in motion, in almost every sense of the word - even the worst and most awkward of it was sincere.

“So what?” 

Her easy response wasn’t one he expected so quickly over hearing out his argument. However, how could he be so surprised? What had she to fear? “Oh, that’s easy for _you_ to say when you wake up every day looking like a freshly born Venus,” he stated, so matter-of-factly it caused Erzsébet’s cheeks to rival that of the flower in her hair.

The giddy feeling from that flattery sunk once she took in her husband’s next sentiment, as he cast his gaze to the ground. “It’s... different, when you look as I do.”

Erzsébet, however, wouldn’t let that slide by so easily. “What,” she simpered, linking her arm in his, “like an Adonis?”

Without fail, Roderich felt his face flush, and inadvertently tried hiding it in his hand. Even while looking sternly down her way, there wasn’t a threat to be found in that smile he tried desperately to mask. “Ach, hush! Flatterer.”

Noticing she’d breeched an oddly sensitive spot, she tried to change tactics. “Wouldn’t you want to see how it works? Like that phonograph! You enjoyed that!”

“Because I knew it wouldn’t replace musicians,” he reasoned, helpless to gesturing like he was beginning a lecture. “This photography thing is starting to put good artists out of work. Besides, seeing it working involves me sitting in front of it and being blinded. That’s why they reserve it for dead people.”

Erzsébet took a moment to break down all of those frankly ridiculous ideas for herself before continuing on. “What about all of those married couples and dignitaries and generals? It doesn’t look like they’ve lost work or their sight. And the reason you see a lot of dead people is because not everyone can afford to get more than one. And now it’s even cheaper to do!”

There really was no logical way to contend with this woman - he knew it too well, and knew eventually he’d have to give in at some point. This was still not it, however, as she could tell by the way he fidgeted with his checking his pocket watch - barely looking at it - before grumbling like the stubborn old man she knew him to be. “I’m still on the fence about it.”

The Hungarian released some of her frustration in a sigh, unsure if Roderich would even tell her what his problem was, until she got a wicked idea that caused her to inch in closer to her husband’s side. “Well, what if we arranged for private photographs as well?”

Feeling her side leaning into his own and hearing that mischievous purr in her voice, the Austrian peered down curiously through his spectacles. “Private?”

“You know,” she soothed, all while brushing her fingertips down his sleeve to meet where the skin peeked out from his jacket. “You get to see mine, I get to see yours?”

Her husband’s jaw went a little slack - not a new or unwelcome interaction between the two of them when Erzsébet was bold. After a pause, the Austrian regained his ability to speak. “Are you suggesting-“

“I could take mine however you’d like,” she suggested, leaning her cheek against him and adjusting the parasol to block some of the onlookers, “and if that means trying to recreate the birth of Venus-“

“ _Erzsi_!”

“What?” Erzsébet backed out enough to accommodate for the yelp echoing under their shade. “Only _you’d_ be seeing them.”

And there he was again, a sputtering mess trying to collect himself over the very offer - the very tempting offer that made the tops of his ears red. “Have you no shame? I-I-It's the principle of it! That’s all. _Someone_ has to take those photographs.”

“And we’d have the only copies,” she argued, grounding her voice to a more casual tone. “15 minutes of me posing nude versus three hours. Come on, you can’t tell me you’re completely opposed to the idea.”

Roderich scrambled for an argument. He scrambled to find the appropriate response of a gentleman entertaining such a risqué idea involving his own wife. The absolute scandal of it all! He scrambled to say something, understanding the potential of onlookers hearing them. He struggled to anchor his tone and regain composure and voice any kind of acceptable excuse.

“W-what if I lost it?”

Erzsébet stared back at him for a moment, biting her lip to keep from laughing at how flimsy that was. “Where would you be taking it?” she challenged him, eyeing him like the cat having caught her mouse.

“I don’t know,” he shot back, with his exasperation catching up to him over the whole matter. He kept averting his gaze around everywhere else but her. Catching her eyes on him would ruin his defense, and he tried so hard to bolster it. “What if another war happens and we’re called to separate frontlines? I suppose I’d like _some_ kind of keepsake to have with me, if that were the case.”

The Hungarian forgot where they were for a moment and spoke a little louder than before, all the while looking at him with a mockingly triumphant expression and holding back laughter with that wide grin. “So you would bring my nu-“

Roderich urgently turned back to her with hitched shoulders and cut her off with frantic hands and a nervous shush that wound down, very much like that of a child desperately trying and failing to keep a secret. Erzsébet could have burst to tears laughing, but decided to be merciful and bite down on it as best she could. 

The Austrian scolded her through gritted teeth while his eyes wandered around the street. His voice seeped out in a hushed, high-pitched whine, almost like a tea kettle. “Must I remind you we are in public?”

“Oh, I know,” Erzsébet replied with lidded eyes and a shameless grin.

Slouching for a moment upon finally letting go of that breath he held, Roderich reconstructed his posture and looked down at his wife with that stern expression, only lifted by a raised brow. “You are such the tease.”

“I thought you liked that,” she shrugged, with the carefree air that made these interactions what they were. 

“I like it far too much,” he quipped right back, trying again to reel himself back in from the desires he knew very well she was building up in him. “A photograph might not be the _worst_ thing to have of you. Besides, I _would_ have more incentive not to lose it.”

“And would that be regardless of whether or not I’m wearing-“

“Shhh!” he spazzed yet again, struggling to acceptably balance out his social constitution, as much as Erzsébet struggled yet again to keep from snorting. He tried to reprimand her again, but there was no real command in his words - just a reminder of outside forces prone to gossip. “Must you be so on the make out here?”

Erzsébet stood in front of him and brushed her thumb over his cheek, switching gently to a nudge with her knuckle - a tiny hint at a cheek pinch. “If it’ll get me that blush, we can make out when we go home.”

Reflexively, Roderich reached up for her hand, giving it an eager squeeze and a chaste kiss, before returning it down. There was something exciting about that chuckle and the way he studied her in that moment that was a very good sign. “Oh, it’ll get you a lot of things when we return home.”

Quite pleased with where this was going, she cooed back at him, appreciating his attempt to play along. “Careful. Your _actual_ sensibility is showing.” Shortly enough, the pair had weaved their way back into linking arm in arm along the street, meandering and primed for at least one likely encounter later on. 

Hoping maybe she’d distracted him enough from whatever funk caught him earlier, Erzsébet tried to return them back to their original discussion. 

“So will it get you to sit with me for a photograph? Don’t worry, I’ll keep my ankles covered, if that matters. For this one, at least.”

He was clearly now in a place where he wasn’t quite as defensive as before; however, Roderich still found himself caught feeling some type of way. Likely shame - that photograph exchange wouldn’t be a fair trade off, considering his own comfort. And it definitely wasn’t fair to push her to the brink of artistic nudity if he’d barely expose an ankle. Maybe it was easier to just... tell her. 

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he relented, taking a softer tone. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do all of that for me to sit for this.”

“I’m not embarrassed by it,” she assured him. 

Reaching his farther hand across to stroke her linked arm, he continued on gently. “Regardless, I don’t mean to cause you this much difficulty to get this done, and I know you mean well. It’s just that I-“

Roderich cleared his throat and huffed a little through his nose, trying to dislodge some small hitch threatening to keep him quiet. “... I am a little self conscious about my actual appearance.”

Upon letting the idea digest, Erzsébet switched easily into understanding the gravity of such a confession. “Really?” she asked, doing what she could to let the concept sink in. “I hadn’t really... thought of you in that way. I always thought you were aware of your looks.”

“Well, I‘m not a fool. I notice when you find something on me attractive, though I admit I don’t always understand why, and I’ll try to remember that for... certain priorities.”

“Oh, well _aren’t you thoughtful!”_ Erzsébet snickered over that shy blush before continuing. “Well, what about all of those portraits you’ve sat for all these years?”

“You must have noticed they’re not completely accurate,” the Austrian continued on, while he looked towards the ground. “Some of that was intentional. Collaborations to make my appearance a little more... palatable to the times, with the appropriate compensation. On my own, I don’t find myself a very inspiring muse, visually.” 

“You a-muse me, if that matters,” she joked, taking note of the little courtesy laugh he gave in return. Erzsébet pressed on earnestly, getting a little closer as they walked on. “Besides, I think you’d make a wonderful subject to photograph. No alteration required. I’d be proud to take and own that photograph and look at it on a frontline, just so I could say I got to see you that day.”

Roderich let out a small, sarcastic hum, potentially to make a counter point. “And would _that_ still stand, whether or not I was wearing-“

“Yes,” she declared, hoping he’d really take in the sincerity of her affirming attitude. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen. Certainly nothing I’ve ever regretted seeing, so long as you were okay with it... you were okay with it, weren’t you?”

Roderich’s hesitation had Erzsébet worried until he spoke again, adjusting his glasses. “Well, it wasn’t as though you invaded my privacy. I suppose, if anyone were to see me that way, I would likely have the least problem with _you_ being that person...” he pondered, feeling his guard lower while she looked up at him in that caring way. He wasn’t thrilled it was still so easy and yet still so hard to talk to her, specifically on how his sentiments would leave an upturned frown, no matter how vulnerable. “And I know I might not always be clear about expressing that, but your attention in this way is occasionally... well, it’s, shall we say, ah... I appreciate the outside perspective. It... gives me some excuse to re-examine my judgements.”

Erzsébet knew that was all she would probably hear from him about it, but she got the idea and felt a little glow inside. “I’m glad to keep that going, then. And, you know, if you really don’t feel comfortable with sitting for a photograph, we don’t have to do it. I won’t force you. Besides, I get to see enough of that handsome face as it is.”

And within that moment, Roderich felt some sort of release, rather than an excuse to hide away again. Like there was less of a part he had to play to maintain her interest in him. In fact, it came across as if she was endeared by his admission. Genuinely endeared by someone so effortlessly endearing.

“You know what?” he started up again, riding on some of these peculiar feelings. “I think I might be willing to oblige you in this. Or at least try to, anyway.”

Springing from that kindness was a glimmer of joy. “Wait, you’re serious? You really mean it?”

“So long as you’re there with me, I find it’s hard for my objections to keep pace,” he shrugged, feeling a smile creep onto his face. “Besides, it may be a good starting point if I should ever hope to be so bold as to, erm... fulfill a certain artistic trade off, should you still be so inspired.”


End file.
